


Shawn and his Merry Men, Oh and Jules

by Leenden



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: M/M, Renaissance Festival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leenden/pseuds/Leenden
Summary: Shawn and Gus receive a call from the SBPD to investigate a murder at Santa Barbara’s own Sherwood Festival, a Renaissance Fair dedicated to all things Robin Hood. Despite the circumstances, Gus’s excitement won’t be squashed as Shawn and the gang will have to don their tights and jerkins if they hope to catch the killer before the festival ends.
Relationships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	1. Act I

**1989**

Shawn stared down the shaft of the arrow at the red and white straw target at the other end of the field. It was a beginner bow without much poundage behind the pull. It should have been a piece of cake for him to wield, but the force of this pull shuddered his hand. The bowstring bit deep into the leather guard protecting his fingers. How long could he hold it for?

“Alright, Shawn.” His dad’s breath ruffled his hair.

He was so focused on the target he’d forgotten his dad was even there. It startled him to the point he almost let go. If that happened, the arrow would have sailed high over the target and been lost in the trees behind. Shawn couldn’t afford another two-hour search for his missing arrows.

“Remember to keep both of your eyes open and locked on the exact point you want the arrow to hit. Then, go upward one to two inches to make up for the-”

“The drop off, I know dad.” Shawn snapped in retort.

“Alright smart guy, show me what you got.”

Shawn held his stoic pose, his muscles starting to cramp.

“Dad?”

“What, Shawn?”

“Wouldn’t it be a more accurate shot if I closed one of my eyes?”

“Nope. It’s just like firing a gun. You have to keep both eyes on the prize; closing one eye would mess up your depth perception. You’re liable to overcompensate and shoot into the woods, or you’ll shot too low, maybe even into the ground. Don’t forget to breathe out on release.” His dad explained.

“But dad-”

“No buts, Shawn. Can’t you just trust me this once?”

Shawn did as he was told. When the arrow snapped free from the bow, it flew straight and slightly to the right – at first. Then the wind carried it right past the target. The pair watched the arrow disappear into the bushes and was rewarded with a painful yowl.

“Whoops,” Henry said with finality. “I forgot to mention the wind speed. Come on, Shawn.”

“But dad-”

“Not now, we have to get Gus and head out.”

Henry quickly grabbed his tote bag while Shawn grabbed the quiver and they started walking back towards the club house, keeping their pace brisk. The moans from the unknown victim reminded Shawn that it was better to not stick around. He was hot on his dad’s heels.

A young boy stepped from the public restroom kiosk, slathering his hands with some sanitizer. A bright smile flashed on his face when he saw Shawn and his dad approaching.

“Hey Mr. Spencer,” Gus said, waving.

Henry gave a stressed smile and beckoned to the boy. “Come, Gus, it’s time to head home.”

“Gus, you’ll never believe what happened, I-” Shawn started to say before Henry interrupted.

“My, how time flies when you’re having fun.” Henry punctuated his through with a muttered ‘come on’ for good measure.

Henry tossed his effects into the bed of his beige truck and hopped behind the wheel. Shawn and Gus barely got their seat belts buckled before Henry sped away.

“So what happened?” Gus whispered.

“I-”

“Got a bullseye is what,” Henry lied. “That’s right; Shawn here kept his eye on the prize and got his just rewards. Isn’t that right, son?”

“Wow, man, you’re like Robin Hood or something,” Gus said excitedly.

“Yeah, closer to the something, I’d say.” Shawn said, slumping in his seat.

**Present Day**

“Come on, Gus, what’s this about. Where are you taking me?” Shawn complained.

In fact, he’d been complaining for the last twenty minutes, since the moment Gus eased the car off the freeway and into a heavily forested area.

“Oh my god, you’re driving me to the middle of nowhere to kill me, aren’t you? Dude, listen, I’m sorry I used your toothbrush a few weeks ago. I’ll get you a new one.” Shawn urged.

“No, it has – wait, you did what?”

“Nothing.” Shawn slumped back in the seat.

“Shawn, you distinctly said you used my toothbrush. Why didn’t you tell me? That’s so nasty.”

Gus felt an overwhelming urge to spit but knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Well, if you’re not driving me out here to do me in, why am I out here?”

“I already told you, Shawn. I got a call from Chief Vick-”

“For a case?”

“Yes. Weren’t you listening to me the other three times I told you?” Gus asked.

“There’s a chance I might not have been able to hear you.”

“Over your whining and crying, I’d be surprised if you could hear a plane crashing into the car while we were driving.” Gus pursed his lips.

“I was going to say because the wind factor on the freeway. I don’t-” He flipped a few air quotes. “Whine and cry as you say, Gus.”

“Whatever, Shawn, it doesn’t matter now. We’re here,” Gus said.

Gus pulled the blue Toyota hatchback to a stop in the designated gravel parking lot along with half a dozen police cars and a few news vans. Shawn already had his door open and was halfway out when he noticed the sign.

In bold yellow letters, scrawled across a wooden slatted sign that hung over an archway, ‘Sherwood Forest, Robin Hood Festival’.

“You gotta be kidding me, buddy. I’m not going in there.” Shawn lowered himself back into the car.

“Shawn, don’t do this.” Gus said, rounding the car. “We need the work and besides, you love Robin Hood. This isn’t going to be so bad, you’ll see.”

“It’s a renaissance fair, though. Miles and miles of nerdy larpers, please.” Shawn pleaded.

“This isn’t just any renaissance fair, Shawn, this is Sherwood Forest.” Gus reasoned.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You want to go to this thing, don’t you? You probably already had plans to come here.” Shawn’s lips parted in the Cheshire Cat smile Gus loathed.

“Don’t be ridiculous man,” Gus scoffed. “This thing’s been sold out for month. I couldn’t get tickets to this thing unless I reserved them last year.”

“Oh Guster, I’m meeting a very ugly side of you. The side that has pimples, braces, and is very, very virgin.” Shawn cackled.

“Shut up, man. Are you coming or not?”

“I don’t know, Gus. I left my d20 in my other trousers, so I’m stuck on the fence.”

Gus shook his head, sparing only a second longer of disappointment before heading through the archway, Shawn’s voice calling after him.

“Come on, Gus, I was only playing. You know I always got your back. You’re the Marian to my Robin.”

It didn’t take long to catch up to Gus, his progress blocked by a border of bodies. Some of which wore suits, others wore blue uniforms. They gathered around something Shawn couldn’t quite make out.

Before he could get close, he felt a hand around his bicep pulling him off towards a line of trees. It was Chief Vick and she wore a strained look on her face. Gus soon joined him on the other side as they both were whisked away.

“Chief,” He said, but was jostled to a halt before a pair of detectives.

Both bore crystal blue eyes but that was where the similarities abruptly ended.

**-Blond Hair/Dark Hair-**

**-Short/Tall-**

**-Female/Male-**

**-Skirt/Pants-**

“Here he is, the man of the hour.” The tall one said crassly.

“Shawn, we’re glad you’re here.” The other said.

“Jules, you’re looking refreshing like a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice,” Shawn said with a smoldering lip purse before his gaze shifted to the other. “Oh look, they let you keep the pits.”

“Oranges don’t have pits, Spencer.” Lassiter smirked, unfazed by the poke.

“I’m pretty sure they do.”

“It’s called pith, Shawn, the white membrane on the inside of the orange peel.” Gus said.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it said both-”

“All of you shut up.” Chief Vick cut in.

“Chief, are you sure you should be here for this.” Jules asked.

“I highly agree, this is a very-”

“Your concerns,” Chief Vick exhaled her visible frustration. “Have been noted and I will turn everything over to your capable hands, but first I want to make sure you know what’s at stake here.”

“I mean, what could possibly be at stake? Some nerdy kid fell on an arrow or something; crime solved.” Shawn teased.

No one laughed. In fact, the grim looks on the other’s faces caused his own smile to disappear.

“It wasn’t just some kid, Shawn.” Gus said in hushed tones.

“Who was it?”

“It was the mayor’s son.” Chief Vick said.

“I guess that’s why the merry men aren’t so merry anymore.” Shawn said.

**[Intro Music]**

- **Organ Music plays with a low humming chant-**

'In 'twixt the lines, there dwells much obscurity.

I be not inclined to resign to maturity.

If 'tis all well, then thou art all wrong,

Yet why bounce around to the like damned song?

Thou'd something run when thou't crawl.

I wot, thou wot, that I be not telling sooth.

I wot, thou wot, thee just do not hast any proof.

Embrace thee deception, wot how to bend,

Thy worst inhibitions tend to psych thou out 'in the end


	2. Act II

Shawn, Gus, and the others headed back to the crime scene in their tight group. Jules walked next to Shawn as Gus moved up on the other side.

“What do we have?” Shawn asked.

“Jordan Channing, youngest son to the mayor. He just turned twenty-one earlier this month.” Jules explained. “From what I’ve gathered so far, he’s done this festival the past three years, always nabbing the honor of playing Robin Hood in the-”

“Sherwood Hood’s troupe.” Gus added.

“Very good, Gus.” Jules said, impressed.

“As fascinating as all this sounds, what’s the cause of death?” Shawn asked.

“Well, its-”

“Oh god,” Gus gasped before pressing a fist to his mouth.

There was an audible slosh in his throat as his shoulders hitch. Then he was gone in a flash. Shawn barely had time to confirm the noise.

**-Face up/Sprawled Out-**

**-Gaping Hole/Left Eye Missing-**

**-Gaped Mouth/Red Rash Around Neck-**

**-Wallet Outline/Right Thigh-**

Shawn gripped his temple and grunted. Both Lassiter and Jules stared at him but not with the same expression. Hers was one of intrigue while his was one dripping with frustration.

The look only lasted a second before Lassiter’s blue eyes drifted towards the encroaching News Cameras. They either wanted a shot of the body or the famed psychic detective working up his shenanigans for the crowd.

“Dammit. Detective Lassiter, give me a hand with this.” Chief Vick said, rushing to intercept the news crews.

Lassiter hesitated only a second before rushing to assist the Chief with crowd control.

“What do you see, Shawn?” Jules asked, keeper her voice low.

“The victim- Jordan, was it?” He asked, to which Jules nodded. “He was murdered.”

The excited look on her face drained away with a punctuated eye roll. “We already know that.”

“Yes, but-”

**-Missing eye/Gaping Hole-**

**-Two Slits/Spit both eyelids in half-**

“Did you know the murder weapon was an arrow?” Shawn finished his thought with an exaggerated breath.

“Well, we assumed as much. It’s a Robin Hood festival. Everyone here is packing a bow,” Jules said sharply.

“I know, Jules, but this wasn’t a target range arrow. Those usually have bullet tips. The arrow used in the murder was a barbed arrow.”

“That’s why the eye is missing. When the perp retrieved the arrow to hide the evidence, they took the eye with them. Very good, Shawn.” Jules realization turned to a smile.

“It was the cosmos calling to me. I was just fortunate to be here to answer when it rang.” Shawn forced a sheepish smile.

“At least we have a starting point now. I should get Lassiter up to speed so we can plan our next move.”

“You do that.” Shawn said.

“You know what this means.”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“It looks like we’re going to have to go undercover.” She slapped him lightly in the chest with the evidence folder on her way past.

Shawn raised his hand to beckon her back but waved her way instead. His triumphant smirk was gone, replaced by disgust.

“Did you find anything?”

Shawn turned his attention to the voice. Gus managed a few more steps towards the body. He kept his hand up to the side of his head blocking line of sight with the body.

“Yes, and I just have one question for you.”

“What’s that?”

“How good are you with a bow?” Shawn asked.

Gus straightened up, his eyes narrowed. “Okay, why?”

“Hitch up your belt and strap on some tights. We’re about to be the merriest of men in all the woods.” Shawn exhaled, exasperated.

“Yes!” Gus pumped his fists, before covering his eyes again as his tummy churned audibly.

“Pull it together, man.” Shawn said, shaking his head.

**Back at the Police Station**

**-Tunic/Leather-**

**-Vest/Ringed Belt/Sword-**

**-Sheath/Knee-high laced boots-**

“Are the tights really necessary, O’Hara?” Lassiter said.

He shifted and tugged sharply the thin fabric on his thigh, only managing to skew the seam even more.

“I’m afraid so. There’s a dress code here in the guidelines that this is an authentic Errol Flynn Robin Hood Festival. That means goatees, tights, the whole nine yards.” Jules stated.

She dropped the folder on the edge of her desk on her way around it, keeping her steps narrow. She was sporting a dark blue peasant gown, complete with a tunic and plumed sleeves.

“Be grateful you’re not stuck wearing this thing,” she said.

“Perish the thought, my lovely Marian. You’re resplendent as always.”

The voice at the door drew their gazes. Shawn leaned against the doorframe stroking his pointed goatee. He wore a brown leather vest, green tunic with the sleeves cut off at the bicep, and a pair of acid-washed jeans.

“Wow, Shawn, you look-”

“Utterly ridiculous in those jeans.” Lassiter cut in.

“Says the guy in the pantyhose,” Shawn snarked.

“If he doesn’t have to wear tights, neither am I.” Lassiter grumbled.

“He is going to wear them or he’s off the case.” Jules sighed, turning back to Shawn. “Please, just change, and can you do it without a bitching?”

“Say it isn’t so, Marian.” Shawn swept in and took her hands gingerly.

“Stop calling me that. Obviously I’m not Maid Marian.” Jules pulled her hands away while backpedaling.

“You’re not?”

“No, she’s Marian’s lady-in-waiting, Bess,” Gus said, coming into the room as if his cue was called. “Why are you dressed like that, Shawn?”

“What? The costume shop said it was ‘Robin Hood’ costume, so I thought why not.”

“You’re not Robin Hood is why not. Jordan had an understudy who will take over the role. You’re supposed to be Will Scarlet. Did you even watch the movie I gave you?” Gus asked.

“I tried but I don’t have a VHS player.”

“It was a DVD, Shawn.”

“Oh, that explains a lot.” Shawn pondered.

“Like what?”

“I don’t have a DVD player either.” Shawn shrugged.

“What happened to the one I got you for Christmas?” Gus asked.

“Are you two finished?” Lassiter cut in. “We have about a half hour to get there for sign-ins and get to our respective circles. Do I make myself clear?”

“Opaquely.”

Lassiter exhaled sharply and made a strangling motion, but Shawn didn’t flinch. They stared at each other for a long beat before Jules grabbed Shawn by the arm and pulled him around.

“Ease up, Carlton,” Jules said. “Besides, Shawn was right about the whole barbed arrow thing. We should cut him some slack.”

“I’d love to. I’d love to cut him so much slack he’d just disappear.”

“Would you two kiss and get over this…’thing’ you have hanging between you two already?” Jules snapped.

Lassiter opened his mouth to say something, snapped it closed for a second before attempting a second time. “What are you talking about? There isn’t a ‘thing’ between us.”

“No, Lassie, don’t shut down now. We were just coming to an understanding.” Shawn said. “Is it me? I feel like it’s me, Jules.”

“We don’t have time for this.” She said, exasperated. “McNab!”

A tall lanky cop slid into the room as if his name was a magic word that summoned him.

“Yes, Detective O’Hara?”

“Could you quickly put together a Will Scarlett outfit for Shawn? You did such a spectacular job on mine and Lassiter’s, I can’t bring myself to ask anyone else.” Jules asked.

“Actually, I think I might have one on hand,” he said.

“Wait, you have a Will Scarlett outfit on hand?” Gus asked.

“Oh yeah, my buddy Greg went to the Sherwood Festival last year as Will Scarlett. I made his outfit.” McNab explained.

“My man.” Gus held up his knuckled, McNab eagerly bumped them.

“You know, Greg looks to be about Shawn’s size. Gimme about ten minutes, I’ll run home and grab it.” McNab said, his grin never left his face.

“Thank you, McNab.” Jules said.

“Wow, Detective Lassiter, you’re really pulling off that Little John look. Don’t forget your beard. I left it on your desk.”

Lassiter made a motion as if he were straightening a suit jacket he wasn’t wearing. He recovered by smoothing down his leather vest before offering an understanding nod.

“Oh and you’re seams aren’t straight.” He added.

“Get the hell out of here.” Lassiter ordered through gritted teeth.

“Yes sir.” McNab jolted and hurried out of the room.

“Well, Lassiter and I are heading out. You and Gus can join us after McNab gets back.” Jules said, making sure to tuck her badge into an unnoticeable place in her tunic.

Lassiter went to his desk and retrieved the zip-lock bag with his beard inside. He took his gun as well and Jules quickly cleared her throat, taking it from him, and returning it back to the top drawer.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t think people would appreciate Little John packing a Glock.”

“She’s right, Lassie. The idea of Little John even using a bow is-” Gus’s voice failed as Lassiter leaned in close.

“When I want your input, I’ll ask for it. Got me, Sir Nerds-alot?”

Gus nodded.

“Good.” He said, turning for the door. “Let’s roll, O’Hara.”

“I gotcha, dude.” Shawn whispered to Gus as he followed Jules and Lassiter out the door.

When he rounded the corner, he called out. “Oh by the way, Lassie, I gotta say, your ass looks fabulous in those pantyhose.”

Lassiter reeled around as if he were going to strangle Shawn with his bare hands. The entire police station seemed to stop operating at once. Even the phones stopped ringing as all eyes found Lassiter. Slowly, he straightened up tugging the hem of his tunic down as if to cover himself further.

“Don’t you all have cases to be working on?” He barked. “Now!”

Suddenly, the room came alive again and cops were sent scrambling about their way. Shawn watched the two detectives escape towards the front door. Gus came to stand next to Shawn before they bumped fists.

“Thanks, partner.”

“I got your back,” He looked Gus up and down. “I have this urge to call you...Gwaine?”

“That’s King Arthur, Shawn. I’m Alan the Dale. Can’t you tell by the red scarf and lute?” Gus said indignantly.

“What? I – I just want my friend back. I know he’s in there. Come back, Gus!”

“This is serious, Shawn.”

Shawn laughed. “I know, but I can’t take it seriously while you’re dressed like that.”

Gus disengaged and started away with Shawn chasing after him.


	3. Act III

“I hate this,” Shawn hissed as he hurried along the narrow trail, the foliage biting his nearly naked legs.

“Don’t be that way,” Gus panted. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Once in your lifetime maybe, but I’ll give it a hard pass.”

Even though the tunic was long enough to reach mid-thigh, Shawn kept one hand over his hind-end, the other over his crotch as if hiding the goods. He still hadn’t recovered from the ‘skirt’ comment Gus made when they left the station, but he wasn’t about to let Gus know that.

A few more feet and the forest path opened up into a clearing. Shawn slowed his pace, taking everything in.

**-Beige Tent/Canvas Style-**

**-Mud Streaked/Hastily Constructed-**

**-Lassie/Jules-**

**-Merry Men/Robin Hood-**

**-Maid Marian/Hot-**

A tall, slender man swiveled to look at them, his face unmoved as he spoke. “Look now, ye all. Lost men of merriment stagger from yon woods.”

The green hunter’s hat, mascara drawn mustache, and well-groomed goatee could only mean one thing.

“You must be Robin. Or should I call you Mr. Hood?” Shawn said, trying to swallow his heavy breathing.

Gus’s eyes swelled but before he could say something, Robin Hood burst into laughter, soon joined by the other merry men.

“A righteous pun. What else does one come to expect from the rapier wit of Will Scarlett?”

His laugh continued as he gave Shawn’s shoulder a sharp slap. Shawn’s laugh was broken up by a shuddered ‘ow’ before growing more forced.

“Well, I like a jeep-”

“Jape.” Gus corrected.

“Jest as much as the next peasant, I suppose.” He finished.

Robin again belted out with a deep belly laugh, this one obviously fake. “Good sir, I hope your blade is as sharp as your wit, lest your life end on this very day.”

Shawn offered up his own boisterous laugh before letting it die in a resounding- “What?”

“Tardiness will not be tolerated, good sir. I endeavor to teach you manner swiftly.”

Robin turned to the merry men gathered behind him. With a snap of his fingers, a young man dressed in a hood and cape drew a sword from his belt and held it out to his liege. Robin took it and gave it a few test swings before pointing the blade towards Shawn.

“Arm the knave.” He ordered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lassiter moving to intercept the now armed Robin, but Jules caught his bicep and held him firmly. If looks could kill, this Robin Hood would have been sawed in half by Lassiter’s crystal gaze.

There was no rescue coming. Instead, another unnamed merry man delivered him a weapon. Shawn took it, surprised to find the weapon was wooden. Solid and well crafted, but wood all the same. It would hurt to be hit with but at least it wouldn’t be a deathblow.

“Engard,” Robin snapped.

“No thanks, I’m not that hungry,” Shawn said.

The fight was over as soon as it began.

Robin chopped his blade down, striking Shawn’s sword. The vibrations jolted his wrist and he dropped his weapon with a high-pitched scream. Everyone’s eyes were on Shawn as he clutched his hand close to his chest. It was the smug look on Lassiter’s face that burrowed the deepest.

“I wasn’t ready,” Shawn said. “Best two out of three.”

Robin smirked and gave a salute with his blade before tossing it back to the one who’d gave it to him. The man fumbled with it, taking a slap to the cheek with the blade before getting it under control.

“Nay, fighting may not be your forte. Jester suits you better, me thinks.”

Robin gave a smug bow, flicking his wrist to beckon his merry men to laugh at Shawn’s expense, which they did, even if it was feigned.

“I think we found our first suspect.” Gus whispered.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

The crowd gathered around Robin Hood, looking more like a mob, albeit a nerdy one. Then Robin removed his hunter’s cap and started shaking hands with the other merry men.

“Alright, good job everyone.” Robin said, this time his voice was much softer and more nasally than it had been moments ago.

The rest of the members started clapping and shaking hands all around. Someone even managed to catch Jules hand and give it and awkward shake before being shut down by a glare from Lassiter.

The man formally known as Robin turned his attention back to Shawn. “Sorry about that. I hope there are no hard feelings.”

“Not at all,” Shawn lied. “I mean, what’s a few jabs at my expense?”

“True, but you took em in stride. You’re a very funny fellow, mister.”

“Oh no mister, you can call me Cary El-” Gus nudged Shawn hard in the side. “Way, Cary Elways.”

“Wow, your name is remarkably similar to Cary Elwes, of Men in Tights fame.” Robin nodded excitedly, shaking Shawn’s hand. “I’m Bernard, by the way.”

“Bernard?” Shawn punched the name. “Well Bernard, my parents were huge fans of The Little Prince.”

“Don’t you mean The Princess Bride, Cary?” Gus interrupted.

“That’s the one,” Shawn laughed uneasily. “Your skills with a sword must have scared me out of my mind.”

“I’m so sorry about that. Sometimes I just get so deeply into character that I lose control.” Robin said.

“That’s the sign of a good actor.” Gus added.

“Right you are, young man.” Robin said. “And who are you again?”

“This is my friend, Guster Gusterson; he’s playing Dale something-or-other.” Shawn said.

“Oh, no, you can’t be Alan the Dale.” Robin shook his head sharply.

Gus shifted his weight from one leg to the other and crossed his arms. “And why’s that?” His face skeptically awaited the most obvious response.

“Your scarf is too red. It’s flowing more into Will Scarlett territory. Alan the Dale wore a more amber color. I know the new remastered version makes it look more red, but trust me, it’s supposed to be orange.” Bernard explained.

“Oh,” Gus said taken aback. “I guess I’ll have to get my hands on the classic edition and give it another watch. Don’t worry though, I’ll get a new scarf before tomorrow.”

“Don’t make a fuss, I have a few extra scarves in my truck,” He leaned in close. “I like to lie and call it my trailer.”

Both Bernard and Gus chortled before shaking hands in a welcoming greeting.

“Man, I’m having so much fun. I’ve been the understudy for Robin Hood for nearly five years. Always the bride’s maid, never the bride, am I right?”

“It must be nice to be in the spotlight for a change, after what’s-his-name?” Shawn prodded.

“I just wish it was under better circumstances. Jordan was an okay Robin Hood but his dedication was second only to me. I wish everyone here had even a quarter of his determination.” Bernard explained.

“Ahem, Bernard.” A woman with fiery red hair came in close, whispering something in his ear.

Shawn leaned in, cocking his head to get the slightest hint of what they might be talking about.

“Oh, that’s fine. It’s a shame you’ll miss out on tonight, but I understand. I hope you make the festival tomorrow. It’s opening day,” Bernard whispered back.

“Thanks for understanding,” she said.

Quickly, she hurried past Shawn and Gus. There was a strong smell of floral and citrus. Gus’s eyes followed, trying not to draw attention to his leer, while Shawn was shameless about his gawking. Normally he wouldn’t have paid attention, except Gus took a long sniff.

“That Citrine Le Vauk, there’s no way that’s standard for the festival. I might have to file a complaint.” Gus said.

“Easy there, Alan, that’s my wife you’re drooling over.” Bernard said with a chuckle.

Shawn turned around abruptly. “Get out!”

“I’m just messing with you. That’s our resident Marian. She’s played her for the last two years. As for your complaint, Sarah is a professional. She knows only to use organic scents during actually play dates.” Bernard folded his hands at his stomach, looking humbler than before. “Now that I think of it, this was the first time she’s ever missed a line. She must be taking Jordan’s death pretty hard.”

“Shame, really,” Gus said.

“But the show must go on,” Shawn piped up.

“Right you are, Cary. It would dishonor Jordan’s memory if we didn’t.” Bernard offered a few seconds of silence before continuing. “That reminds me, I hope you two aren’t busy tonight. We’re meeting here to celebrate this year’s festival and to have a small celebration to remember Jordan.”

“No-” Gus said but Shawn cut him off.

“What he means is ‘no’, we’re not busy and we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Spectacular. You don’t need to bring anything. I’ve already arranged the whole thing to be catered. It starts here after sundown. We’ll have a roaring bonfire, so you won’t get lost in the woods on your way here.” Bernard said.

“Excellent, my liege. I can’t wait to dine anon.” Shawn said, drawing an exuberant giggle from Bernard before he rushed away.

Lassiter and Jules waited for the false Robin to make his escape before joining with Shawn and Gus.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Lassiter said under his breath.

Shawn touched his temple and glared into Lassiter’s face. “No, absolutely not. I’m in a committed relationship. Can you believe the gall of this guy, Gus, wanting to play seven minutes in yonder tent?”

“No, simpleton. I was thinking he’s our man.” Lassiter barked.

His grunt was punctuated by a scoff but it was barely audible over Jules choked laugh. Quickly, she subdued and mouthed ‘sorry’ to Lassiter who was red in the face from frustration or something akin to that.

“Bernie? No way is he our man, Lassie. He’s too soft for that kind of misdeed.” Shawn dismissed.

“Then who is it?” Jules asked.

“Things are a bit hazy, but I might get a better idea tonight at the little soiree Bernie has planned. Please say you’ll come. Besides, how merry can these men be without the merriest of them all?” Shawn pursed his lips at Lassiter.

“There’s no way in hell I’m-”

Jules interrupted Lassiter with a definitive nod. “If this will help with the case, you can count on us being here.”

“Detective O’Hara-”

“Carlton, Chief Vick said by any means necessary. We’re going.” She said, choking on her determination under the gaze of the much taller detective.

“Fine, we’ll make an appearance, but only just.” Lassiter said, turning away.

“Thanks, Jules. I know this will be a good way to get a lead,” Gus said.

“I sure hope so.”

Shawn and Gus watched as the two hapless detectives retreated through the woods before sharing a glance.

“Are you sure about this Bernard guy, Shawn?” Gus asked.

“I’m pretty sure. Leaning close to seventy-nine to eighty-” Shawn stopped talking as he noticed the sword he’d wielded still laying in the grass.

**-Wooden Blade/Nothing Splintered-**

**-Silver Lacquered Blade/Black Grease Smudge-**

“What do you got?” Gus asked.

“Bernard wasn’t using a wooden sword. See the smudge?”

“And?”

“I don’t know.” Shawn shrugged. “But I’m about to find out.”

Shawn turned to a man in overalls who was walking by. On his back he was carrying a wrapped bundle of wooden swords as well as a few quivers of arrows. Shawn hurried to catch up with him, Gus hot on his heels.

“Excuse me, sir,” Shawn said.

“Doug,” The man said back.

“Same to you, buddy!”

“That’s his name, Shawn,” Gus said.

“I knew that,” Shawn said.

Doug grunted and rolled his eyes, continuing to walk.

“Doug, can you tell me why Bernard doesn’t use a wooden sword?”

“Wood allergy,” Doug said. “Usually we make all weapons from Ash, and that’s the only mandated material the arms are made of. Bernard got permission from the festival board to allow him to use fiberglass as long as he paid for it out of pocket.”

“Does that mean his arrows as well?” Shawn asked.

“What do you think?”

Doug continued with his trek, leaving Gus and Shawn behind. Shawn’s voice chased after him.

“Good talk, Doug. I see a positive progress review in your future.”

“Would you cut it out?” Gus snapped. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, our sire can only use fiberglass weapons he’s paid for out of pocket.”

“So?”

“So, my dear Dale, most fiberglass arrows have changeable tips, such as…”

“Barbed arrowheads,” Gus nodded. “So Bernard isn’t as innocent as he seems?”

“I’m not sure yet, but my guts telling me that someone might have swiped his quiver to do some night arching.” Shawn pondered for a second. “Archering?”

“Archery, Shawn,” Gus slapped his bicep and gestured back towards the car. “Come on. Let’s give Jules and Lassie the update.”


	4. Act IV

As Bernard promised, Shawn and Gus could see the glow from the bonfire with no problem. It was accompanied by off-key singing, chatter, and laughter. It was enough to scare them away; fortunately the smell of meaty stew and fresh fired bread lured them back.

Gus regretted getting a sandwich before heading out. Shawn tried to convince him fire cooked food wouldn’t give him E.coli, but he refused to listen.

“Hey!” Bernard called as they stepped out of the tree line.

**-Bernard/Fancy-**

**-Sharing Mead/Stew-**

**-Lassiter/Little John**

**-Jules/Bess-**

**-Crazy Party/Roaring Bonfire-**

Shawn was dazed for only a second before bursting out in a feigned laughter and pointed to his greeter. The heat of the bonfire was overwhelming, instantly prickling sweat on his brow.

“Cary, Gus, it’s good to see you.” Jules smiled at their approach.

“Oh, you guys know each other.” Bernard, caught by surprise, dribbled a little mead onto his tunic.

“You could say that. You see we…” Jules said, her mind working to create a cover story.

“We did a stint of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves in San Franny,” Shawn explained.

“Get out! I bet it was phenomenal,” Bernard said, turning his attention to Jules. “Were you Snow White?”

To this she started nodding, until Shawn started talking. “No, she was Doc, the most important Dwarf.”

“Wow, I would have thought someone as – but I forget myself.”

“Nah, say it. She was the sexiest Doc they’ve had at the festival.” Shawn said, picking a grape off of Bernard’s plate and eating it. “Me on the other hand, I played Happy because of my incredible disposition.”

“And you?” He pointed to Gus.

“The h-”

“Dopey,” Shawn interrupted, “of course. And he acted the hell out of it.”

Bernard looked up at Lassiter. “You were the huntsman, right?”

“I was-”

Shawn startled him out of his thought by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I’m surprised you didn’t guess Grumpy. This man revolutionized the role. We’re talking serious method acting right here.”

“Thank you, S-Cary; you always know exactly what to say to put me in the mood.” Lassiter said.

“It’s amazing that you all know each other. I was terrified we’d have to cancel our part of the festival. First the thing with Jordan, which caused four other members to drop out, and now Sarah’s trying to leave the production. Thank God you four were available,” Bernard explained.

“Sarah’s trying to back out? What a shame. She seems amazing.”

“Oh don’t you worry, Juliet. She’ll definitely be back. She needs this gig,” Bernard said.

“That’s an odd way to put it,” Shawn mused.

“What?” Bernard turned his head sideways.

“He said; we’re glad to be a part of this prestigious event,” Gus said.

“Don’t be so formal. You’re family now, one big merry family,” he said.

“Bernie, get your ass over here. We need help rolling another keg.”

Shawn’s gaze searched the crowd for the source of the voice. A figure dressed as an executioner called from the tree line. He stood stocky and strong next to a barrel turned on its side. Just then, something moved through the brush beyond, but it was too dark to make out properly.

“I’ll be right there. Please excuse me, folks. Duty calls.” Bernard said, stepping away.

“Did you hear that?” Jules asked.

“Yep, I guess Bernie’s back on the suspect list.” Shawn said.

“Well, that’s one then,” Lassiter said. “I want everyone to split up and mingle, but keep it on the down-low, Shawn.”

“Wait, why are you singling me out?”

Lassiter gave him the side-eye before walking towards the canvas tent near the edge of clearing. Jules headed off towards Bernard. When Shawn turned to see where Gus went, he was already being whisked away by a troupe of folks brandishing instruments.

Shawn opened his mouth to call after him but the sudden appearance of a young woman halted his words.

**-Short/Cozy-**

**-Pretty/Freckled cheeks-**

**-Curly Dark Hair/Darker Eyes-**

“Hey.” Shawn fought to breathe. The woman’s sudden appearance and demure figure caught him off guard.

“Hey yourself.” She smirked, sipping at her stein of dark liquid. “When I saw how quickly you chased your friends away, I just knew I had to meet you, Mr. Scarlett.”

“My name’s-”

“Nah, let me be frank. Names just cause trouble. We’ll dance, talk, have fun, and when the sun comes up, we’ll just pretend go on with our lives like nothing happened.”

“Well, Frank, that sounds like a good deal,” Shawn said with a straight face.

It made the woman laugh. She even gave him a playful slap to his shoulder. Too bad it hurt worse than he’d expected. He laughed it off, trying to seem tough about it.

“Call me Rose,” she said.

“Well, Rose, I for one am glad I met you.”

“You are? Just wait and see what I have in store,” she said coyly.

Shawn pondered this comment for a moment, taking in every aspect of her. She wasn’t armed and didn’t seem overly menacing, but she did put off a vibe.

**-New Makeup/New Hair cut-**

**-Nervous Stance/Darting Eyes-**

**-Ring indent/Left hand-**

“I’m curious,” Shawn began. “What’s your game?”

Rose’s smile faded. “My game? I’m just here to have a good time.”

Shawn’s desperation slipped as he spoke. “God, I want to believe that more than anything, but let me be frank this time.”

“Can I still be Rose?”

They both laughed, albeit nervously.

“I’m Shawn Spencer, a psychic detective with the SBPD.”

“Dammit. I thought you looked familiar,” Rose said, looking for a way to escape.

“Will you hear me out?”

“You got a minute, and for the record, I don’t believe any of this stuff.” Rose threw her drink into the fire, causing it to hiss.

Shawn touched a finger to his temple and focused on her for a second. She shrunk beneath his gaze. Her breath quickened along with her pulse beneath his scrutinizing gaze.

“You’re recently divorced. Not your choice, and you still love your ex. You’re here for a good time, to make some mistakes, and to forget the pain that you’ve been going through. You joined the troupe in the hopes of finding culture but you’re nervous, shy, and out of place.” Shawn said, keeping his voice low so only she could hear.

Rose pursed her lips and stared back for another beat before shaking her head. Her feigned confidence slipping through her fingers as she balled them into fists.

“Goddammit.”

“It’s okay. I won’t say anything to anyone else, if you promise to keep the secret of me being a psychic for the police hush hush.” Shawn asked.

She nodded, holding her breath for a moment. “You’re here about Jordan, huh?”

“Yeah. Do you know anything?”

“I do, but-”

“It’s someone here, isn’t it?”

“Yes- No. I don’t know anything about what happened to Jordan, but I do know that-”

A loud ruckus rose from near the center of the meadow. Shawn could see a group of folks gathering in a circle. When he turned back to ask Rose what was up, she wasn’t there. Her silhouette disappeared in the gathering crowd. With no other option, he followed the noise.

Shawn stepped up between Lassiter and Gus, trying to ask them something over the shouting of the crowd, but couldn’t muster a tone loud enough.

To his surprise, he saw Bernard pulling Rose through the crowd into the meadow, surrounded by the other party-goers. He helped her up on one of the eight crates stationed there, where she stood demurely. He took the crate next to her, continuing to hold her hand. Shawn got the feeling that Rose had no interest in being there, or holding his hand. Behind them were small canvas tents, much like the changing tents found on the beach. Each were numbered one through four.

“You know what time it is, ladies and gentlemen,” Bernard announced to a thunderous applause.

He pumped his fist in time with the crowd chanting, ‘seven minutes in Sherwood’. Then with a sweep of his hand the crowd when silent as if he cast a spell on them.

“We have one volunteer already. Thank you, Bethany.” He gave her a nudge and wriggled his eyebrow.

“We need six more, and I’m just gonna leave it up to all of you to decide.” He said.

Several people behind Shawn started pushing to get to the front. Before Shawn could stop himself, he shoved Lassiter through the crowd and into the circle.

“Little John has entered the arena,” Bernard barked to the rumbling of cheers.

Lassiter snapped around, looking behind and then to the front. His hand instinctively tugging the hem of his tunic down even though there was no need.

“My dear Little John, draw an arrow from the blue quiver and take your place on the matching soapbox if you’d please.” Bernard said.

Lassiter hesitated for a moment before Jules urged him on with a subtle head jerk. He took the arrow in hand and pulled it free. A two was etched beneath the tip symbolizing the second crate. He took his place. It continued that way until all eight boxes were occupied with excited couples.

“Alright, round one is over and it’s time to spend seven minutes in Sherwood. Everyone go about your business, round two will be starting shortly,” Bernard said.

He stepped down from the box, nearly pulling Rose over as he joined the rest of the pairs already on their way towards their designated tent before disappearing inside.

Lassiter was the only one left standing with his chosen other. She giggled and slapped at him playfully. He jolted and glared down at her. Before he could explain things, she took him by the hand and led him to the tent. The last thing Shawn saw before the flaps closed was the strange woman handing Lassiter a blindfold.

“Shawn,” Jules whispered in his ear. “I-”

“Don’t worry, Jules. We’ll get our turn sometime tonight.”

“This is serious.”

“What?”

“I’m almost positive I saw a figure moving through those trees over by the kegs earlier,” she said.

“I think I saw them too,” Shawn confirmed.

“Are you two talking about that weird shadowy figure moving around the camp?” Gus joined them.

“You saw it, too?”

Shawn cut in. “Okay, so we all agree we saw something. But what?”

“Another murder?” Jules said.

“Or,” Shawn touched his temple and gave his body a violent jolt. “I’m getting the feeling that either Jordan wasn’t the intended target, or this is a murder spree.”

“Then Bernard’s not the killer. He’s been present the whole time.” Gus said.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you may be right.” Jules said. “For now keep your eyes peeled. If you see anything, call me.”

Everyone shared an understanding look before finalizing it with a nod. Jules started towards the tree line where the barrels were stacked.

“I’m gonna check behind the big ass tent over there,” Gus said.

“I’ll try to warn Lassie.” Shawn said. “Hey, be careful.”

“You know that’s right.” Gus bumped fists with him before heading off.

Shawn snuck over to the kissing tents, trying not to draw attention. He stood nonchalantly, pretending to talk on his phone. In truth he was listening to what was going on inside. He could hear hushed voices.

“You’ll have to excuse me.” Lassiter said, his voice surprisingly shaken. “I’m not one for these sorts of things.”

“I find that hard to believe. You strike me as a large hunk of man-meat that can get anything he wants with only a little effort,” she whispered seductively.

Shawn grimaced, mouthing the words ‘man-meat’. Then something hit him hard in the back of the head. The force of the blow propelled him into the pitch blackness of the tent. There was a hard crack against his elbow and a quick tussle in the dark. Then he felt a pair or warm lips upon his.

This strange woman was far more passionate than he’d expected. Her mouth parted slightly, so he could taste the spice of Big Red on her lips. There was even a slight tease of tongue. It was enough to surprise him but not enough to take his breath away and didn’t stop him from feeling light headed. The oddest thing was the woman was much taller than she’d seemed.

The kiss was broken by a shrill scream and Shawn was roughly pushed away. Firelight tore through the tent flaps, half blinding him, as someone left the tent. That someone turned out to be Lassiter. In the next second, Shawn noticed the woman he thought he’s been lip-locked with was out cold on the grass.

Then that meant he – he cut the thought off there, kneeling down to touch the woman’s neck. There was a pulse, thank god, and a rather large Shawn’s elbow sized bump on her forehead. That’s what he must have hit when he was shoved into the tent.

**-Warm lips/Soft caress-**

**-Hot Breath/Spicy-**

**-Lassie/Lassiter-**

“Carlton.”

The sound of Jules’ voice shook the visual memory out from behind his eyes, urging him to step out from the tent. He and Lassiter exchanged a look, both tight-lipped and stunned. It wasn’t until Shawn felt the red flush on his cheeks that Lassiter realized what happened. Before he could react, Jules urged him to her, Shawn hot on his heels.

The last tent was crumpled on the ground while Bernard stood by, covered in blood clutching his chest. He’d been injured, Shawn thought as he approached. No- it wasn’t him. That’s when the image drew clear in Shawn’s mind.

**-Curly hair/Freckled Cheeks-**

**-Parted lips/Wide Unseeing Eyes-**

**-Arrow/Above Left Breast-**

Lassiter pulled his vest off and dropped to his knees next to Rose, feeling for a pulse. Jules was on the other side in an instant. They gazed at each other and Shawn knew, even before Jules closed her eyes and Lassiter covered his mouth, Rose was dead.

“Oh my god,” Bernard gasped. “Those are my arrows.”

Shawn looked past Lassiter and confirmed the fiberglass arrows. The entry wound told him the tip was barbed. Whoever the murderer was hadn’t had time to retrieve the arrow before getting away.


	5. Act V

The clearing bustled with activity. A few officers carried in several more floodlights. Forensic put up yellow tape so they could do their thing. All the while Shawn stood, staring off in the direction of the murder. His mind flooded with several issues congealing as one and he only had the patience to deal with them one at a time.

Lassiter was in the same boat but not fit to stand still about it. He paced around, trying to pick through his thoughts and put them in an order that made some semblance of sense.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shawn caught the detective looking in his direction. The hope that the commotion might erase the memory of the kiss they shared was dwindling.

“You alright?” Gus asked, giving him a soft nudge.

“Yeah – no, not really; I was just thinking about poor Rose.”

“You mean Bethany.” Gus asked.

“She said her name was Rose.” Shawn hung his head.

“Oh, so you two were a thing?”

“Nah, I just feel she was about to tell me something very pertinent to the case.” He said.

“Damn.” Gus said.

“Are you able to piece any of it together?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I have to try and clear my head and run through the facts.”

Shawn rolled his head on his shoulders, looking at Lassiter and then back at Gus.

“Gus, can I tell you something?”

“You know it.”

“I think I may have made a terrible mistake.” Shawn said. He took this time to carefully work through his next words.

Jules walked up, her phone pressed to her ear. Shawn felt a wave of relief pass over him. This little distraction would buy him more time to figure out exactly what to say about this whole Lassie thing, or if he should say anything at all.

“I will, Chief, keep me in the loop if you come up with anything else. Thanks.” She pushed end on the phone.

“What did the chief say?” Lassiter asked in the next instant.

Shawn hadn’t noticed him sneak in and lean against the same tree near him.

“It’s pretty unanimous that Bernard isn’t a nice guy but he’s not a murderer. Chief made a note in his statement, ‘that Bethany Davis was very important to him and the troupe’. ‘He’d rather cut off his pinkie than lose her’.” Jules explained.

Shawn sighed heavily. “So where does that leave us?”

“Since everyone’s accounted for this evening. I guess it’s back to square one.” Jules said.

“What about the shadowy figure we were looking for?” Gus asked.

“The who?” Lassiter pushed away from the tree. “What the hell is he talking about?”

“At different times, we all saw a shadowy figure moving around the party. Whoever they were kept a distance. They were probably waiting for the right moment to strike.” Jules speculated.

“Why wasn’t I made aware of this?”

“I tried to tell you but you were in the kissing booth making out with someone.” Shawn added, still unable to keep the blush from his cheeks.

It was the same blush that lit Lassiter’s face, which he hid by covering his mouth with one hand.

“I blame myself, if I hadn’t taken part in the festivities; I would have been more vigilant.”

“Don’t yourself up, Lassie. We were all urged to have a little fun.” Gus said; thumbing the blue ribbon pinned to his leather vest.

“Grand High Lute Master.” Lassiter read the gold print on the silk.

“You got that right.” Gus said.

“I guess I feel better knowing I wasn’t the only slacker here.” Lassiter smirked.

“Cut it out, this isn’t helping.” Jules cut in. “Since everyone was here, we might have to look for suspects outside the troupe.”

“Like the festival hands?” Lassiter asked.

“That’s one theory.” Shawn said.

“That could take some time.” Lassiter said. “We better get investigating; they’ll probably shut this freak show down soon.”

“You’re out of your damn mind, Lassie. This is one of the ten most lucrative festivals in Santa Barbara. It would take a disaster to shut this thing down; especially if they want to avoid legal repercussion.” Gus explained.

“Are you serious?”

“Trust me, angry nerds are a vindictive lot. Social media folks would eat the festival officials alive. It would be-”

“A blood bath, I get it.” Lassiter said through gritted teeth.

“At least we’ll have the time to investigate. I’m starting to regret not having an understudy. I don’t know if I can focus on both.” Jules added.

**-Understudy-**

Shawn gaze drifted towards the parking lot, where red and blue pulses of light fought through the foliage.

“Understudy?” He said.

“What did you say?” Gus asked.

“Wait a minute.” Shawn held up a finger, urging everyone’s attention. “I’m getting something.”

He held both hands before him grasping at something out of reach.

“What is it?” Jules asked.

“Jordan was Robin, right?”

"Yeah.” Gus nodded.

“And Bernard was his understudy?” Shawn asked.

“This better be going somewhere, Spencer, or so help me.” Lassiter barked.

“Then Bethany was Maid Marian’s understudy?” Shawn asked.

“That’s a good guess, yes.” Jules said.

Shawn touched his temple. “I smell, flowers with a hint of citrus, it’s unmistakable.” He gagged and coughed. “It’s in my nose, my head, it’s so powerful. Please tell me you still have the arrow from the crime scene.”

“Yeah, I think forensics has it bagged and tagged already. What’s this about?” Lassiter said, trying to keep his composure.

“I can’t be sure, but I need to see it. I need to hold it.” Shawn pleaded. “I need it to help me understand what I’m feeling. Please, Lassie, tell them it’s important for the case. Jules, you go with him, convince them. Cry if you have to. I need that arrow. I’ll wait right here.”

“O-okay, if you really think it’ll help.” Jules said, beckoning Lassiter to follow.

“What do you have?” Gus whispered.

“I’m almost certain I know who the killer is, I just need your super sniffer to push that ninety-two percent to the full one hundred.” Shawn smiled.

“And the motive?” Gus said.

“I’m a little hazy on that but I’m sure we’ll find out everything we need to know at opening night.” Shawn said.

“Show must go on?” Gus said, holding up his fist.

“Show must go on.” Shawn said, bumping knuckles.

**[Opening Night]**

Several lights stationed on scaffoldings setup around the clearing came up, lighting the dark meadow. There was a spattering applause immediately covered by the sound of fanfare. The metallic horns harmonized to bring the attention of the audience to the center of the ring.

Gus, with lute in hand, took several long strides into the center of the circle. He played a few notes to check the lute’s tone before giving into an exaggerated strumming.

“Ladies and gentleman, I am one Alan the Dale, here to weave a remarkable tale of Robin Hood and his merry band of-”

A heavy clapping caused him to hit several sour keys. He whipped around to see Shawn coming to join him. Gus knew he shouldn’t be surprised to see him horning in on the act but he was hoping to at least get a little further in the soliloquy.

“Ladies and gentleman, give it up for the great Kevin Costmore, such a treat.” Shawn gestured to Gus with bravado before turning to address the crowd.

A low grumble circulated the crowd; Shawn could almost feel their eyes digging into him. The sense of impending doom was thick in the air. Nevertheless, it was too late to turn back now.

“If I could have your attention, I would like to address a murder most foul.” Shawn said, hoping to gain intrigue.

The mumbles seemed to only grow more menacing.

“Two murders then, jeez.” Shawn snapped. “There’s just no pleasing some folks.”

“Man, would you get on with it.” Gus hissed.

“Fine, philistines,” Shawn said dismissively. “As you are all aware, the usual Robin Hood was recently murdered. Jordan Channing was a young, up-and-comer that will be missed.”

There was a wave of gasps. The angry mutters turned to shocked amazement. The sound caused Shawn to snap to attention and look around. His fear confirmed as both Lassie and Jules face-palmed.

“Oh, you didn’t know that, whoops. I guess I shouldn’t mention that the understudy of Marian, Bethany ‘Rose’ Davis was also murder?”

Another wave of gasps confirmed his suspicion. His face scrunched up in embarrassment. When he looked to Gus, he saw him glare and shake his head in disgust.

“Well, cats out of the bag I guess. Anyway, I’m here to divine who the murderer was.” Shawn pause a moment. “I guess I should have started by saying ‘I am Shawn Spencer, Psychic Detective with the Santa Barbra Police department’. You have to believe me, I usually I don’t have so much trouble with these things.”

He waited for acknowledgement that didn’t come. There wasn’t even so much as an ‘ooh’ or an ‘ahh’ before continuing.

“That’s fair I guess. The murderer was none other than Sarah Jacobs, aka, Maid Marian herself.”

The spotlight swiveled around to find her standing on the sidelines; instead it found Bernard, looking around for her location.

At that moment, an arrow struck him in the shoulder. He buckled against the force of the impact. The spotlights lashed around trying to find the one who fired it, only to catch a fleeing black cloak that disappeared into the tree line.

Before Shawn could muster a rational thought, he darted after the assailant. The sound of Lassiter calling his name chased him into the pitch darkness of the trees. If it hadn’t been for the stretch of young trees, Shawn would have lost sight of the assailant.

Over a fallen Log, the sawdust told him it was freshly cut down. These were the ash trees used to craft the weapons and arrows for the festival he noted.

Ahead of him, the figure dropped out of sight ahead. Shawn could see the indent of a river bed and soon he saw the cloaked figure pulling themselves up on the other side. It might be too far to jump but he had to take that chance.

It was too far, his ribs groaned as he hit the edge of the other side. His brain screamed for him to get up and get a move on. Even with the air nearly knocked from his lungs, he found the strength to continue the chase.

The whiz of an arrow passed his head, when he came through the trees. That’s when he saw her notching another arrow and firing. Shawn dropped down; tearing his tights in the underbrush. On the upside, the arrow sailed past.

“Wait! Wait!” Shawn called, holding up his hands. “Sarah, don’t do this.”

The figure stood across from him stoically. As soon as she heard her name, she tugged her hood back and glared daggers into Shawn. There were tears welling in her eyes. With trembling hands, she notched another arrow and took aim.

“You don’t want to do this.” Shawn said.

“Oh I think I do.” She quipped.

"No, you’re not a killer, I can sense it.”

“Sense? Oh right, you’re the psychic.”

Shawn smirked and Sarah took aim again.

“No wait, hear me out.” He said. “I know Jordan wasn’t your intended target.”

“What?” Sarah said, nearly letting her shot go.

“Stick with me, things are gonna go really fast.” He explained. “Bethany wasn’t either, right? You target was always Bernard. That night in the clearing, you got Jordan confused with Bernard.”

“If it wasn’t for Bernard being a stickler for every single detail, I might-” She said.

“I know, but Bethany was a different story. You shot into that tent, blindly, with the intent to kill Bernard.”

“Th-that’s right.” Sarah said, tears running down her cheeks. “I had to make Bernard pay for what he did.”

“I’m getting that right now, just give me a moment.” Shawn said, taking a deep breath.

That was when he saw it.

**-Sarah/Diamond Ring-**

**-Rose/Empty Ring Indent-**

It was all coming to him now.

“You had an affair with Jordan and like Bethany, Bernard found out.” He said.

“When he found out I was pregnant, He told me he was going to tell my husband unless I did exactly as he said.” Sarah said. “And after what happened with Bethany when she refused to pony up the dough, I couldn’t risk it.”

“It might not have been that bad.” Shawn explained.

“If you could have seen what happened between Beth and her husband, you wouldn’t think so.”

“So you paid him off?”

“A few times, until I couldn’t justify thousands of dollars missing from my savings account every month.” Sarah explained. “I had to remove the problem any means necessary.”

“What about the baby?” Shawn asked.

“For a psychic, you’re pretty dense. Jordan was a player; I wasn’t going to tell him. I just got caught up in the whole Robin/Marian love affair.” She explained.

He snickered. “It’s gotta be the tights, am I right?”

She didn’t seem impressed.

Shawn cleared his throat. “What about your husband? Sure he’d notice his kid looking an awful lot like Jordan crawling around.”

“Genetics are a funny thing.” She said, her arm visually trembling now, no doubt her muscles were going to give out.

“If I’m honest, I prefer slapstick.”

“You think this is a joke?”

“No, but I’ll tell you what I am think it is; a double homicide and double attempted murder. Those are gonna be tough to shake off and there’s nowhere to go. The cops are converging even as we speak. I suggest you give yourself up, tell the truth, and maybe your lawyer can get you a good deal.” Shawn said. “Trust me; shooting me isn’t going to make this any easier.”

Reluctantly Sarah relaxed the taut string and let the arrow slip to the ground. Her shoulders, heavy with the weight of her crimes, sagged. Tears welled in her eyes, as her mouth quivered. She was nearing the breaking point.

"Okay Sarah, my friend Lassie is going to step through those trees and cuff you. Then you’re going to go to jail. From there, we’re going to try to help you iron this out.” Shawn said.

“I didn’t mean to kill them.” Sarah cried.

“No,” Lassie said, stepping up behind her. “But you did intend to kill Bernard and that’s something we can’t turn a blind eye too.”

“What about the baby?” She asked.

Lassiter stopped and looked at Shawn, who mouthed ‘I’ll explain later’, hoping Lassiter wouldn’t understand.

To this, he nodded and led her back the way they’d come. Shawn watched her go. He wished he could tell her everything was going to be okay, but even he didn’t know for sure. At the very least, he might have made himself feel better.

“You alright, Shawn?” Gus asked, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“No, not really. There’s just something about this case, it’s just – I don’t feel good it.” Shawn said.

“I hear that.” Gus said as the two of them followed.

They walked for a while in silence. When they crossed the riverbed, Gus helped him up on the other side, that’s when he stopped.

“What is it?” Shawn asked.

“What was it you’re trying to tell me earlier?”

“I-” Shawn started before he let a ragged breath cut him off. “You know what, I’ll tell you some other time. I’m not feeling it right now.”

They shared an understanding nod before continuing on without another word. There was still a nagging feeling in Shawn’s gut over what happened. Here in the silence, he was able to shine a little more light on the whole situation.

He’d kissed Lassiter and liked it.


	6. Act VI The Wrap Up

Henry Spencer adjusted his tie before leaning over to write something on the ledger. The beautiful blue tie bore navy blue fleur-de-lis. It reminded him of his son, as Shawn was the one who bought it for him for as a late Christmas gift.

The fact that he wore the tie today wasn’t a coincidence. Today Chief Vick gave him a special assignment.

“Alright, I got you down, Detective O’Hara.” He passed her a warm smile before taking her check, folding it neatly and slipping it into the locked box. “Thanks for doing this, it really means a lot.”

“How could I not. That baby deserves a chance at a fresh start.” She said, putting away her checkbook.

“I agree. They’re going to be born is prison and handed off to someone they’ve never interacted with. I couldn’t imagine.” Henry said, pausing when he saw his son and Gus coming around the corner.

“Hey you two, what are you doing? Arranging the wedding plans?” Shawn smiled and leaned against the counter, nudging Jules with his hip.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “No, I was just donating to Sarah’s baby, trying to help give them a good start.”

“Wow, that’s so noble of you,” Shawn looked at his dad. “Did you come up with this idea or did someone force you into it?”

“You know me, Shawn; I’ll do anything for the kids.” Henry smiled. “What about you kiddo, got anything to donate?”

“Yeah, some polite words, I’ll whisper them in the box.” Shawn leaned over as if he were going to say something to the slot in the top.

“Jesus, Shawn, it wouldn’t-”

“Relax, dad, that’s the reason we came down. We’d like to donate the full amount of our payment for the case.” He said pulling the folded paper from his jacket pocket. “I think the little muffin can use it more than us.”

Henry stared, shocked at first before softening into a smiling.

“I’m proud of you kid, that’s so generous.” Henry said.

“Glad you think so, Mr. Spencer, because Shawn’s gonna have to sleep on your couch when they evict him.” Gus said.

Before Henry could react, Shawn cut it. “He’s kidding dad, I actually paid double on my rent last month so I wouldn’t have to worry about it this month. It’s no set back really.”

“Well, if you need anything-” Jules started, but Henry finished.

“You can always ask. This is a big deal for me and seeing you step up and doing good things is, well it inspires me.” He laughed.

“Thanks dad, I appreciate it.” He pointed to the ledger. “If you would please fill this out with Psych Detective Agency, I’d appreciate it.”

“For tax purposes.” Gus added.

“A little of this, a little of that, I suppose.” Henry said, filling in the blank.

Shawn looked closely at the page to see who else donated.

“I don’t see anything from Lassiter. Is no one’s going to call BS on the head detective?” Shawn asked.

“Nah, he gets a pass. I just got off the phone with him,” Jules explained. “He said he’s taking care of something else instead. I’m assuming it has something to do with the case.”

“Look at that big softy going above and beyond.” Shawn said.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jules asked. “You almost said that without a trace of sarcasm in your voice.”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I’ve been too harsh with him in the past. I should really open myself up to him more.” Shawn nodded.

“You just did it again, stop it, you’re creeping me out.” Jules said, side-eyeing him.

“I’ll try to maintain my wild and wooly ways.” Shawn chuckled, nudging Gus.

“I wonder what Lassie up too.” Gus said more to himself than anyone else.

**[Santa Barbara Correctional Institute]**

Sarah stepped through the bars, led by a large officer, who let go of her shackles once the door was closed behind them. With a silent flick of the wrist, she indicated booth number three to which Sarah flopped down. It surprised her to see who was on the other side of the glass.

Detective Carlton Lassiter straightened his tie, the shimmering blue silk was set to navy blue fleur-del-lis all over. It was a gift from Shawn Spencer last Christmas, so he wouldn’t have to wear gaudy ties anymore.

It felt funny he should be wearing this tie today of all days, or maybe it was something subconscious. After all Shawn was the one who told Lassiter all about Sarah’s plight with the baby.

Sarah picked up the receiver and watched Lassiter do the same. “What do you want?”

“How are you doing?” Lassiter said; his eyebrows bent in sadness.

“Bad, but I guess not as bad as I could have been. My lawyer was able to convince the judge to give me five years, with an additional 3 years of house arrest and parole. I also have to do-”

Lassiter cut in, keeping his voice even. “A thousand hours community service.”

“How did you know?”

“I ah – pulled some strings, called in a few favors. I didn’t feel right about you taking all the blame and with a young one on the way, I felt I had to do something.” Lassiter said, wringing his hands nervously.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

Lassiter held up his hand in a ‘hold on’ gesture. “Your husband will get the baby once they’re born. The mayor wasn’t informed about the child, so he won’t try to get custody.”

“What?” Sarah asked, tears welling in her eyes.

“I also failed to mention to your husband that the kid might not be his. I don’t really think it’s my place to do that.” Lassiter said, wiping a bit of sweat from his upper lip.

After a long moment of staring at each other uncertainly, Sarah asked. “What about Bernard?”

“He’s at the hospital in stable condition and will make a full recovery. I have two officers standing guard.”

“You’re going to take care of him?” A gentle hitch in Sarah’s voice hinted the coming tears.

“It’s not your concern.” Lassiter said, but the slight smirk told him that Bernard was in for it when he got out of the hospital.

“Thank you.” She said, her voice trembling.

“Take care of yourself, Sarah, and remember that good behavior can do a world of good. Lassiter said, getting to his feet. “I hope everything works out for you. I mean it.”

Then he hung up the receiver and started away. He could hear her weeping even through the glass and hoped that they were tears of happiness. He’d done absolutely all he could and was sure he raised some suspicion with internal affairs but it was worth it. All who commit crimes are not criminals. In Sarah’s case, it was a crime of desperation. Carlton Lassiter did good, even if it didn’t erase the guilt.

Once he was out, he looked down at his phone to see a missed message from

Shawn. He quickly thumbed the small screen opening it, ‘we need to talk’ was all it said. Lassiter deleted the message and stepped through the final checkpoint on his way to the car.

They did need to talk, that much was true, but not now. Lassiter was in no place to talk about his feelings or anything akin to them. Something told him that Shawn wouldn’t know how to handle Carlton Lassiter breaking down in ugly sobs and he wasn’t about to test it either.


End file.
